


Try To Remember(the kind of December)

by MarieanMuse



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Time Travel Fix-It, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, basically Tony is stuck in a time loop, canon compliant up to Civil War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieanMuse/pseuds/MarieanMuse
Summary: Tony keeps waking up on December 16, 1991.





	Try To Remember(the kind of December)

**Author's Note:**

> I sort of wrote this first chapter a while back and would like some feedback on whether it's worth continuing because I ran out of steam on this one. I still love the concept but just maybe a little push?

  
"Try to remember the kind of September…" Tony's eyes jerked open. That was a voice Tony hadn't heard in years.

The piano hit another note and Maria Stark continued to sing. "When life was slow and oh so mellow."

In an unbelievably slow pace, Tony turned around on the couch he was sprawled over. That was his mom singing in front of him like she had on the very last day he had seen her - hours before her death.

A dream? A hallucination? To its credit, it was definitely one of the better ones. And Tony was a good judge on that; he had only ever replayed this scene a million times in his head before after all.

So, this was the one final show before dying, he thought to himself. That's right, how could he have forgotten. He was dying - in Siberia of all places and with Captain America's shield embedded in his chest. Funnily enough, he didn't feel cold anymore. Siberia had been cold but here he was warm, inside and out.

Whatever it was - a dream, a hallucination - he would take it hungrily enough.

Maria looked so real. He had to quell the urge to touch her in fear she would dissapate if he did. So, instead, he listened to her curled up on the couch. At one point he pulled the blanket over his head to hide the tears blurring his vision.

"Try to remember the kind of September when grass was green." Maria continued to sing, her voice echoing in the chamber.

"Wake up, dear. Stay goodbye to your father." Maria spoke to him and Tony's heart ached.

And, before Tony could remove the blanket obstructing his vision to drink in her visage once again, someone was pulling it off him.

"Who's the homeless person on the couch?" Howard Stark said as held one end of the blanket. The mocking tone that would have made Tony give as bad as he got a long time ago, just made Tony smile wryly at the moment. He rolled his eyes as he got up walked over to his mother.

"Be nice, dear. He's been studying abroad." Maria chastised Howard, still playing the tune that had ended up haunting Tony all his adult life.

"Really, which broad? What's her name?" Howard smirked.

And honestly in that moment, Tony didn't remember. His mind was giving him this final gift. He didn't feel like he was dying so if he were to die, oblivious to the world and dreaming about his parents, he supposed it wouldn't be so bad.

This was some weird ass coping mechanism, he thought but he wasn't complaining; he didn't miss the pain. He just wished his mind had picked a better memory but maybe this was fitting. Just like his parents, this was his final night in the world too. How fitting it was once again thanks to one Bucky Barnes.

"Felicia" Tony mumbled. He was sure he was dating someone named that at the time or maybe it had been Felicity. It didn't matter. Nothing did really.

When Howard rolled his eyes, again a move that would have pissed Tony when he was seventeen, it only managed to irk him slightly now, "Do me a favor. Try not to burn the house down before Monday."

Tony was aware his breath was getting a little heavy. This was just a dream godammit.

"Okay, so it's Monday. That is good to know. I will plan my toga party accordingly." Tony replied dryly in an attempt to maintain composure. He mussed his hair as he took in a deep breath. "Where are you going?" As if he already didn't know.

Maria continued to play the piano. "Your father is flying us to the Bahamas for a little getaway."

"We might have to make a quick stop." Howard reminded her.

Tony knew they would never make it to the Bahamas. For the longest time, he had believed it was a car crash brought on by Howard's drinking. He had blamed his father for his mother's death and he had hated his father. For years he had woken up from nightmares of squealing tires on asphalt and smashing headlights. After Afghanistan, the nightmares had mingled with murky waters and a gaping hole in his chest. And after New York, the nightmares had been replaced by the chilling emptiness of space.  
  
But to find out that it had been something worse; it had been the Winter Solder, it had been Hydra. Funny thing is, Tony hadn't even been given enough time to process that yet.

"At the Pentagon. Right?" Tony was so glad his voice wasnt trembling like he was. Not that it would matter. He leaned over his mother's shoulder and watched her fingers glide over the keys. He could smell her perfume. How could a hallucination induced by death be this real?

"Don't worry. You're going to love the holiday menu at the commissure." He managed to choke out.

"You know, they say sarcasm is a metric for potential. If that's true, you'll be a great man some day." Howard said dryly from the side.

In all the different versions of this moment that had played out in his head over the years, Tony had imagined Howard's voice as sometimes teasing and sometimes downright hateful. Tony had created countless comebacks to them but right now, words were failing him as he barely managed to hold himself together.

At the lack of response, Howard turned to his wife, "I'll get the bags."

With that Howard exited the room and Tony was once again left alone with his mom.

"He does miss you when you are not here." Maria spoke softly. Tony could only manage to nod.

Howard came back wheeling two suitcases and with only a curt nod towards Tony, walked out the double doors. Maria stood up from the piano and gave Tony a small smile before following her husband out of the room.

Tony expected the whole scene to fade to black like an end of a stage play but he continued to experience the dream in technicolour. He looked around the room, taking in every detail that his mind had recreated. What was he still doing here? The dream should have been over. He got to see his parents one last time before dying. What more did he need?

Wasn't this enough closure? What did he even have left to say? But he did, didn't he?

Tony felt his heart race and no sooner he found himself running down the corridors and down the flight of stairs. He was out of breath when he reached the driveway.

Howard and Maria were stood around the car as the bags were being loaded in the car.

"Dad!" Tony's cry turned all their heads. He took in gulps of air and stabilised himself

"I just wanted to make you proud. Dad, were you ever proud of me?"

Howard looked startled but before he could reply, Tony continued. "I don't hate you, dad. Not really. Ever since I can remember, I have been seeking approval from you - confirmation, reassurance, anything. I looked up to you. I wanted to be just like you. I just wish you had seen that."

Tony turned to his mother, who looked equally shocked. "I missed you every second of the day you were gone. I was so lost without you."

"Tony, are you okay?" Maria managed to ask, breaking out of her stupor. She took quick steps forward and looked for any sign of obvious distress on her son. She felt his forehead and his cheeks. Tony grabbed at her palm and leaned into it.

"I know you did the best you could." Tony said as he planted a kiss on her open palm. He disentangle himself from her hand and looked into Howard's eyes. "I am sorry I wasn't good enough for you." Tony added bitterly.

"Are you on something, son?" Howard asked suspiciously. Leave it Howard to think he will as on possible drugs because he had suddenly decided to spout emotions.

No just on a death driven hallucination, Tony thought humorlessly.

Howard glanced down at his watch and pressed his lips together. He didn't say anything to Tony instead turned to the help. "Get Jarvis and tell him to make sure my son is okay." He then turned towards his wife. "Get in the car, Maria. We are getting late."

Maria looked between father and son. "But-"

"He is just being dramatic because he doesn't want us to leave."

Tony's jaw clenched at that statement. So the feelings of wanting to punch Howard on many occasions wasn't entirely invalid.

Howard ushered Maria inside the car who reluctantly got in, still anxiously glancing between him and her husband. Tony watched this stone-faced, fist clenched tightly by his side.

Howard took a step toward his son but stopped seemingly changing his mind. He brought a hand over the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. "We will talk when we get back." It wasn't said unkindly but Tony snorted nonetheless.

Then without another glance at his son, Howard walked away and stepped inside the driver's seat of the car. The roar of engine filled the silence as seconds ticked by but Howard hadn't driven off immediately. He visibly took in another deep breath.

"You are my greatest creation, Tony." Howard stated finally and drove away before anyone could say anything.

Tony wanted to laugh. Of course Howard only had that to say. But then again, this was a dream and that was probably the nicest thing Howard had said to him - about him - that his mind had remembered.

Tony must have stood there for a while unmovingly because he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Master Anthony, dinner will be served soon. Shall I bring it to your room?"

Jarvis was standing in front of him, kind eyes watching him in concern. Of course, Jarvis was there too. Not the Artificial Intelligence Tony had created in his memory. This was alive, warm, _human_ Jarvis. And in that moment, Tony lost any inhibition he had held together. He tackled the elder man into a tight embrace and didn't let go. He found warm hands rubbing his back and realised he was shaking as he clung onto his butler ; he couldn't stop.

This was decades worth of emotions tipping out of him and he found himself unable to put a lid back on. He didn't care if this was real or not.

"They are going to die, you know?" Tony finally whispered and he felt Jarvis stiffen in their embrace.

"Master Anthony?" The usually composed butler sounded cautious.

"I am dying too, Jarvis. Somewhere very cold" Tony whispered. "I think I have dreamed enough now. I just want to sleep, Jarvis."

"Master Anthony, if I may apologize for this but I am no longer young as I used to be so could we walk back to your room instead of standing in the driveway? I am afraid I won't be able to carry you."

Tony chuckled throatily, " Are you calling me fat, Jarvis?"

"Oh no, merely commending your growth. A good foot and a half I would say." And he sounded proud. Like Tony was his own son. He may as well have been. Jarvis had raised him after all.

"Still short though." Tony mumbled over the butler's shoulder. He didn't let go of the older man who remained drawing calming circles on his back.

"Dinner and then sleep, Master Anthony?" Jarvis asked softly and Tony shook his head.

"Just sleep. I am tired."

And, so he did until his eyes opened to his mother singing the familiar tune.

"Wake up, dear. Stay goodbye to your father." Maria finally said but this time Tony watched in confusion slowly morphing into horror as the day repeated itself.

They left the same as before. He didn't fall asleep this time but he woke up nonetheless.

The mocking notes began playing on the piano.

"Try to remember the kind of September..."


End file.
